Choices (21 page)

Chapter 42

Declan carries me into his room and lays me on his bed. When he lies down beside me, he wraps his arms around me. They are the only thing holding me together, the only thing that prevents me from completely unraveling.

I nuzzle my face into his pillow, deeply inhaling. It smells just like him, and it soothes and comforts me. My tears flow until the
y run dry and even then he doesn’t move or let me go. Finally, his deep voice penetrates the fog in my brain. “Quincy, do you need to go somewhere?”

Do I need to go somewhere? Yes, I do, but
‘somewhere’ isn’t ever going to be the same. “I need to go home.” I know it’s true, but I can’t make myself move. Declan rolls away and slowly stands. I feel bereft at the loss of his touch, and I want to beg him to stay. But reality awaits me.

“Let me get ready, Quince, and I’ll take you home.” He moves about the room, and I hear him slide on jeans and zip them, then his shoes.
It’s time. 

I roll over, wondering how I will ever support myself, but Declan swoops down and lifts me into his arms again. “I’ve got you. Just relax, and I’ll get you to the car. Do I need to call Jenna?”

I immediately stiffen in his arms. Remembering the look on Jenna’s face when she told me about her trip with Eric, I simply can’t imagine ruining her night. “No. Not yet. I will call her later.”

At the alarm on my face, he pulls me closer. “Don’
t worry. I’ll take care of you.” And that’s why I had asked for him. I need this.

I wrap my arms around his neck, burrowing my face into his shoulder,
and allow his voice to comfort me. There are no more tears as he carries me down the stairs and to his car. And when he gently lowers me into his car and closes the door, I realize that I deserve none of this.

“Where are we going, Quincy?”
Like a robot, I tell him my parent’s address, and he programs it into his GPS. With a worried glance in my direction, he backs out and heads toward Collier. Home.

I lean back and close my eyes, knowing that the next time I open
them, the world will be a different place. Thoughts zoom through my head, not allowing the first one to complete before another one takes its place.

Flash.
We are 8 and 12, and we are at Opryland with our parents. We are riding a train through the park, and the wind is blowing in our hair. We are laughing at something we pass. Katie smiles as she points at the Tin Lizzies. There was happiness there.

Flash.
Katie and I are eating popcorn and watching a horror movie together. Our parents said we couldn’t watch it, but we snuck and did it anyway. We were so scared, we slept together for a week!

Flash.
I’m 13 years old, and I walk into the bathroom and catch Katie snorting a white line of something off a mirror. I’m not stupid. I know it’s drugs, but I don’t tell anyone. I want Katie to know I would never betray her. I want to be her friend more than anything.

Flash.
Katie is sitting on the steps of my dorm, waiting for me to return. We fight, and I scramble to run inside. I left my sister on the other side of that door, and I hoped no one knew she was with me. 

Flash.
I am older, and I have a little girl of my own. She is sitting on my lap, and she asks, “Mommy, why don’t you have a brother or sister?” And my answer, with a familiar ache in my heart is, “I
had
a sister. When I was a little girl, I
had
a sister.” Those words echo in my mind over and over, like a mantra. I
had
a sister.

Reality sinks in as I realize that my sister will never attend my wedding. She will never know my children, and they will never know her. She will never have the life every young girl desires.

And I will never have to wait for that phone call again.   

Declan
intuitively knows what I need. He doesn’t interrupt my inner thoughts, seeming to communicate nonverbally with me. Several times, I feel his eyes on me, and I am so very thankful that he is with me.

I am jolted back to the present
when we pull into the driveway and the car comes to a stop. The trip didn’t take nearly long enough. I am not ready to face the agony on my parents’ faces. I am not ready to walk into the house so full of memories. I am not prepared to be a family of three instead of four.

Chapter 4
3

Our house looks out of place, all lit up like a beacon in the night. Looking up and down the street, ours is the only house with lights on. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. There is no way to prepare for this.

Declan gets out of the car and comes around to open my door. Kneeling beside me, he reaches for my hands, and he very gently places a kiss to my knuckles. “Quince, I would like to say a prayer before we go in.” His face is so earnest, so sincere that I hate myself for what I’ve done to him. I nod and bow my head. “Holy Father, we come to you tonight to ask for comfort and understanding that only
You can provide. Please bless the Priest family as they mourn their loss and rebuild their lives. In Your holy name, Amen.”

I never could have imagined words that precious. Again, guilt washes over me
, and I don’t know why he is here. With me. I betrayed him, yet he came when I needed him. Searching his face for any trace of bitterness, I find only love and compassion. Maybe someday, I can make it right.

A slight tug on my hands signals that it is time to go inside. I allow him to lead me to the doorstep, hesitating to cross the threshold. Just as I reach for the handle, the door swings open
forcefully, and my mother throws herself into my arms. I wrap my arms around her, burying my head in her shoulder. It’s hard to determine who is comforting whom.

She sobs as she holds me in her arms, and I almost co
llapse as the weight of reality sits on my shoulders. After several minutes, Mom backs away and looks at Declan as if he just materialized. “I’m sorry. I’m Linda Priest, and you must be Brody,” she says as she offers Declan her hand.

I
begin to interrupt, but Declan lays his hand on my arm, stopping me. “Mrs. Priest. I’m Declan White, and I am a friend of Quincy’s. I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.” At my mom’s look of confusion, he explains, “Quincy and I are friends from school. She has been dating a friend of mine.” I don’t know who is more confused, me or my mother?

“Come on in, Declan. Make yourself at home. I hope you’ll excuse the…” Mom makes a sweeping movement with her hand, losing her train of thought. She steps asid
e, allowing us to walk by her.

Declan reaches for my hand
, and I lead him to the kitchen instinctively knowing that is where I will find my dad. My heart breaks when I round the corner. Standing with his back to us and both hands on the counter, my daddy looks defeated. His head hangs low, and his shoulders droop like a man who has just accepted his fate. “Daddy?”

When he turns toward me, I drop
Declan’s hand and run into his arms. My whole life, these arms have comforted me and calmed my fears. “Oh, Daddy! What happened?”

Taking a deep breath, he pulls away just enough to look me in the eyes. “
I don’t know, honey. I just don’t know. She had come home, and she was doing so well. She wanted to start taking her medications again, and she even asked if she could go to rehab.” He shakes his head, as if he’s still trying to make sense of it all. “We went out to eat dinner, and when we got home, your mom found her in her bedroom. There was an empty medicine bottle next to her bed.” His lips quiver as a sob shakes his body. “We were too late. We were just too late.”

As his big arms wrap around me again, I desperately wish this was all jus
t a dream. That I would wake up and find that the last few days were just a nightmare.

I suddenly realize I have forgotten Declan
, but when I turn around he is no longer there. “Dad, I brought a friend with me. I’d like for you to meet him.” Taking his hand, I lead him back to the living room.

I am speechless when I find Declan and my mom sitting quietly together. She is weeping softly into a Kleenex, and Declan is holding her
hand in his as he offers words of comfort. When he sees us, he stands and offers his hand to my dad. “Declan White, sir. Sorry to meet under these circumstances.” As they shake hands, I find peace with the knowledge that, for now, he is here.

My dad reaches for his hand with surprise on his face. This is the first time I’ve ever introduced a boy to my dad. Declan turns to me, and I see my hurt reflected in his eyes.

“Quincy, I can’t say enough to let you know how sorry I am. If you need anything, anything at all, call me. Day or night, OK?” Panic rises in my throat, and I struggle to push it down. Clutching his hand in mine, I pull it close to my chest. I want to beg him to stay, but I know his job here is done. I nod and allow him to lead me to the front door. “I meant what I said. Call anytime.”

“Thank you….
For everything. Declan, I’m so sorry…” Laying a hand softly on my arm, he cuts me off. His eyes explore my face while he searches for the right words to say.

“Quincy, there will be time for all of that later. I’m not going anywhere.”
He looks down at me with softness around his eyes, his concern evident as he says goodbye.

As I
watch him walk away, guilt rears its ugly head and begins to eat at me.
How is it that I hurt him so profoundly, yet he is here to comfort me when I need him most
?

C
hapter 44

It’s time to call Jenna. She’s going to be upset that I haven’t called sooner, but I just didn’t have the heart to ruin her weekend. My anguish should not be hers.

When I find
my discarded phone, I am disturbed to see that I have a text from Katie. My finger hesitates and lingers over my screen as I remember ignoring her calls. Pinching the bridge of my nose to hold back the tears, I touch the screen.

Katie: Love you, sister

I close my eyes tightly in an attempt to block it out. Three words. The last three words I’ll ever hear from my sister. Gasping for air, I feel light-headed.
I didn’t answer the phone.

The realization that I was being selfish, dealing with my silly boy issues while my sister contemplated death….
Well, that is inexcusable. If only I had answered those calls, maybe Katie would still be here. If only.

Not for the first time today, tears relentlessly roll down my face. It’s as if I have no control over myself. My
feelings are all over the place and no matter how hard I try, I know I can’t fix this. All of my life I’ve been fixing Katie’s messes, but I can’t fix this.
Why. Katie? Why?

I stare at my phone, as if I expect it to provide an answer, but there are none. Just three little words stare back at me.

The only person I want is Jenna. The phone rings three times before she picks up. I debate hanging up, but I know it’s time. “Hey! What’s up?” The relief I feel when she answers gives way to hysterics when I hear the concern in her voice.
Breathe. Breathe. “
Quince?”

“Jenna.” Her name is a plea on my lips. Taking deep breaths and letting them out, I try to keep from hyperventilating.

“Quincy, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” Her voice rises with each word, until she is shouting through the phone.

I can only manage a moan, and the tears I’ve been holding back begin to roll down my face. “Jenna, I need you.”

“Are you OK? Quince, you’re scaring me!” I know I need to calm down, so I fight to regain my composure. Right now, my only mission is to get Jenna here.

“Jenna,
it’s Katie.” Deep breath. “She killed herself.” Again, I moan, folding in on myself. Saying it aloud makes it too real, each word so heavy, so final.

“What? What? Oh,
my gosh, Quince. I’m on my way. Where are you?” I hear lots of background noise and movement as she frantically throws her things together.

I manage to give her enough information to get her on her way
. Her reassurances echo softly in my head as I fall back on my bed. While staring at Katie’s message, sleep finally rescues me.

There are moments when the line blurs between
reality and dreaming, in that moment when you wake up and don’t yet realize you were only dreaming. And you want to hold onto that moment, knowing that if you could just go back to sleep, you might pick up where you left off. I don’t want to wake up.

“
Sssshhh. Quince, it’s just me. Go back to sleep.” I stir when I hear Jenna’s voice. When I open my eyes, she is lying in bed with me, her arms wrapped around me. Just knowing she is here, I breathe a little easier. It reminds me of all the times we comforted each other when we were growing up. Except back then, it was boys, grades, and teenage drama. Now, death has found us.

When she realizes I am awake, she asks how I’m doing. I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. I really don’t know. One
minute, I am falling to pieces. The next, I am laughing at some childhood escapade. But right now, I don’t feel anything.

“Declan knows. He saw me with Brody.” I feel her stiffen next to me. That probably wasn’t what she expected to hear, but I have to do it. I have to get it off my chest. “I was so upset about
Declan, I didn’t answer her phone calls. She called all day, and I didn’t pick up.” Now, Jenna will know what a terrible person I am, too.

“Oh, Quince.
That’s not your fault. You have to know there was nothing you could have done.” I believe everything Jenna says, but I will never believe that.

“Jenna, I know Katie died yesterday, but the girl I grew up with has been gone for a long, long time. And now, I won’t ever get the chance to bring her back.”
No matter how bad she got, no matter what she did…. I never lost hope, even when it seemed so far away.

“It wasn’t your job to save her, Quince. It was your job to love her, to forgive her, and to support her. She was never yours to save.
Katie made her own choices, and you can’t blame yourself for it.” Yes, I can. And I will. Because that is what suicide does to the survivors. I didn’t have a chance to fix things. I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye. All I’ve been left with are questions that replay over and over in my head, wondering if I could have done things differently. Maybe, just maybe, I could have prevented it. Now, I will never know.

“Jenna, I can’t do this.”
I wilt a little more inside as I face the prospect of moving forward.

“Yes, you can. I’ll be here
with you, and we’ll make it together.”